


Good Times in Goodneighbour

by welseykels



Series: Fallout 4: Charlotte Walsh [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welseykels/pseuds/welseykels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“If someone were to ask you to sleep with them, just to be touched by someone and feel something again – if I were to ask you – would you?”</i> In which the Sole Survivor, Charlotte Walsh, asks Robert Joseph MacCready to spend the night with her for the first time. Originally intended to be complete smut, but feelings got in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Times in Goodneighbour

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my writing masterpage on tumblr!](https://welseykels.tumblr.com/writing)

He thought they were stopping in Goodneighbour to meet up with Hancock about some work he wanted them to do, clearing out warehouses or some shit like that. But Charlotte had grabbed his hand before they’d reached the Old State House - _and Jesus, her hands were soft despite the callouses working their way onto her trigger finger_ \- and led him to the Hotel Rexford.

It wasn’t unusual, it was where they’d usually stayed each time they came back to the small city, and it was getting late out - but this time she’d only bought one room instead of two.  That - that’s what was new.  He was about to protest when she grabbed his hand and led him up nearly to that last room on the right on the top floor.  His mind was whirling with each step they took - with each stair he almost found himself tripping over -  they’d shared sleeping bags out on the road… but a bed?  They had the caps - not that he really wanted to spend the extra - but they’d never spoken about this before. It was when she stopped at the top of the last set of stairs that he started to really get worried.   _Was she going to tell him to hit the road?_ _That she didn’t need a washed-up merc like him with nothing to his name but a few caps and a good gun to follow her around the Commonwealth anymore, just when he was getting comfortable in this new set-up? Was that why she only needed one room? Was he going to have to say goodbye to the first damn friend he’d made since coming here all those months ago?_

“Mac?”

He tried to take a deep breath before he answered, thinking that the momentary pause was too long when she started to frown. “Yeah?”

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

She fiddled with the collar of his duster, a gesture that was becoming familiar whenever she needed something to concentrate on whenever she told him something difficult – usually about her life before the Vault – _not that he'd noticed._ Her fingers strayed over an old stain – probably blood knowing his line of work – and her eyes didn’t budge from it either, at least not after she looked around to make sure they were alone.

“If someone were to ask you to sleep with them, just to be touched by someone and feel something again – if I were to ask you – would you?” She barely glanced up at him through her lashes, nerves getting the best of her when they went right back to that damned stain. 

Whatever answer he _should_ have given her came out only as a nod. _Fuck, was there a right answer here?_ Charlotte Walsh, General of the Minutemen and self proclaimed pistol packin’ mama – _well, at least she had said that as a joke to him once_ – had just shyly asked him to give her a good fuck? _Him_ of all people?

Of course there was a right answer, at least for him – even if he didn’t quite want to admit to himself just why.  But she smiled at him after he nodded again and he found he wasn’t having trouble admitting it quietly to himself right then in that moment. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to kiss her.  To touch her.  To please her.  To fuck her. _To feel something too_.

“Count to ten once I close the door and then come in?”

He nodded again, not quite sure what words he could have said instead.

And then she was turning away from him, half running down the hallway until she mouthed ‘ _okay, start’_ to him right before closing the door to her – fuck, _their_ – room.

_One. Two. Three. Four. Five._

His knees felt sort of wobbly and his palms were certainly growing clammy.  He pinched himself just for good measure.   _Nope, not dreaming._

_Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten._

He’d joined her because of the caps, nobody else was going to hire him with Winlock and Barnes hanging around.  She’d been new, he’d been prepared to take advantage of the fact that she didn’t know that hiring him would get herself tangled up in his trouble with the Gunners. That the Gunners would give her trouble because of him.

_Eleven. Twelve.  Thirteen.  Fourteen. Fifteen._

But then she’d helped him get rid of those two bastards without having thought about getting anything out of it herself. She'd told him that that was what friends did. He'd given her back those two-hundred and fifty caps back right then and there on the spot. If they were friends - as much as it pained him to think about giving up every single one she'd paid him - he didn't need money to stick around. Not anymore.

And now he was going to walk down that hallway in five seconds and have sex with that friend. Fuck. _He hadn’t been expecting that when he woke up today._

_Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen._

And yet, he wanted to. He wanted to so badly. More than he'd wanted to do anything in a long, long time.

_Twenty._

The walk after her was long.  And he couldn’t help but draw it out – as much as he wanted to run as fast as he could to her and into her arms.  He wanted to give her time to change her mind.  Time to decide if this was what she really wanted.  It was just supposed to be sex, but he was worried that it would be much more than that.  They’d both had their fair share of heartbreak, both had lost their spouse, and were both coming goddamned near losing their kids too.  Sure, he’d had a few one night stands since Lucy, but he’d never seen them again come morning light.  Her - Charlotte - he wasn’t prepared to leave her side any time soon.

His heart was beating damn near out of his chest when his hand wrapped around the doorknob.  He was half terrified with what he’d find on the other side. Terrified she had changed her mind in those twenty seconds.

He turned with the door as it opened, his back to the room as he slowly shut it. He took a deep breath before turning around, ready to hear her say that it had all been a bad idea.  But when he did, the sight of her nearly knocked what air he’d had in his lungs.  She stood in the room, the jacket she usually wore slung over the worn-out couch, along with the rest of her usual clothing, clothes only in some sort of lingerie.  She stood there, hands fiddling with the strap of the bra that was starting to fall off of one shoulder. 

“Mac?”

He swallowed heavily, eyes going southward.  “Yeah?”

“My eyes are up here.”  And then that laugh, that goddamned laugh that he’d been hearing for months - ever since she’d walked into the Third Rail that night and into his life - fell from her lips. “Mac?”  A frown came to her face as she walked towards him and cupped his cheek, and he was having trouble focusing.   _Where had she gotten that bra?_ It was black and lacy and delicate and he didn’t even realize those things were kicking around in the Commonwealth.  He didn’t recognize it from when she’d packed her backpack or when she’d have her laundry hanging on the line outside her small little place in Sanctuary - _not that he’d looked_.  

“Bobbie?”  And then he realized he hadn’t said anything yet, she only called him that when something was important. “It’s been so long and - fuck, over two centuries… and I was wondering - hoping… If you don’t want to do this, if this is too much, we can -”

Her words were cut off by his body surging forward, lips findings hers as his hands wrapped around her bare waist.  He pulled her as close as he could to him, not close enough with his own clothing still as a barrier, but he didn’t want her to doubt that he wanted this.

When he pulled away she was gasping, that lipstick she’d found smudged over her lips – and he assumed his now too.  “Two-hundred years since your last fu – I mean, that’s a lot of pressure to put on a guy.”

“There’s no pressure, Mac.”

“You say that like you actually mean it.”  His fingers were rubbing slow lines up and down her back and was enjoying just the feel of her skin against his hands. “With me?  You sure there, General? Why not someone else?”

“I -” she glanced away.  “There’s no one else that I trust like I do you, Mac.  I mean there’s Nick and Preston and Piper, but it’s not the same kind of trust – theirs’ is more like family – I trust them with everything.  But with you… there’s something different there.  I mean, I trust you too but there’s –”

“I’m not the only one who's been thinkin’ there’s something else between us?”

She nodded. “And you’ve – you’ve had my back throughout so much of this, been so patient with me while I adjust to this new life.”  And then her lips pulled up at the corners.  “Even if you do complain about how much junk I collect.”  

He laughed at that.  “But you’re certain?”

“Absolutely.”

And then he was smiling too – what teeth he had left clacking against hers as he found himself eagerly kissing her again.  He backed her gently towards the bed, but her hips connected with the small dresser near the foot of it on the way there.  Before he’d even thought about it, he was lifting her up onto the – hopefully – sturdy surface.  He was so used to seeing her eye to eye that the new angle with her barely above him was disorienting for a moment, but then he was pressing his mouth to her breasts over the thin fabric, feeling the peak there pebble under his touch. She sighed his name when his hand reached for the other.  He continued until the fabric was well and damp under his lips and his hips began to rut up against her thigh.  “I want -” And when her hands ran up the back of his neck it gave him the shivers, causing her fingers to knock the hat from his head.  He caught it before it fell and it gave him an idea.

“Put it on.”

“Your hat?”

“I’ve always liked when you wore it.”

She smiled, cheeks beginning to tinge pink.  “M’sorry I kept stealing it.”

“Don’t be.  Meant you were coming back for me.”

She wrapped her legs around waist then, pulling him ever closer than he had been. Her hair had grown since they’d met, had barely been past her chin back then, now soft waves past her shoulders, and his fingers played with the ends as she put on the cap. He liked it, her wearing it. Liked seeing her wearing something of his, especially now that this – whatever was changing between them – was happening.

When it was settled on her head, he pushed the fabric of the cups of her bra down until her breasts were bare to him.  “Where’d you get this?”

She had to stop and re-start he words several times when his fingers began plucking at the peaks, twisting or pulling here and there.  “Vault, uh, eight-one.  The little – ahh – shop there. Though it might have been better incentive to get you to agree with this.”

He mused idly as he pinched both at once, marveling at the shiver that ran up her spine. “Must cost a fair amount of caps, something like this.”

She nodded, unable to form words as he worked.

“I like it.  But I think it’d look better on the floor.”  He reached around her, finding a simple clasp, like on the one Lucy used to wear, and it was fluttering down with barely any hesitation.  _Fuck, she was beautiful, and he wanted to see all of her._   But his fingers trailing down to the thin edge of the matching panties was interrupted by her own hands moving up his chest to his shoulders.

“So would this.”  His duster hit the ground with a small thud as her fingers began work on his scarves and shirts.  When they had joined her clothing on the floor and he’d kicked off his boots, he could feel the heat that was growing in his body, could feel the same radiating off of hers. _Fuck – he wanted her._

He moaned her name – her actual name and not just General for once – when she tugged him closer, her lips latching onto his neck and sucking gently against the skin.  His head fell back and he was having trouble concentrating on anything.  “Bed?”

She faltered for a moment, and then he saw the fear there in her eyes when he opened his. _Okay, MacCready, too much too soon.  Got it.  The bed was still for her husband in her mind, not yet for him.  He could work with that.  For now, he wouldn’t rush her, not when her marriage was probably still so fresh in her mind.  Not when his was too._

She chewed at already kiss-swollen lips. “We can... but maybe after?”

“You got it.”  And then he sunk to his knees, puling her panties down and off as he did so.  Fuck, she was a beautiful sight as he looked up, naked except for his hat.  Even that scar on the bottom of her stomach was beautiful.  Everything was.  His fingers ran over the puckered skin, “where’d this come from?”

“C-section with my son."  And when he cocked a brow. "He didn’t want to come out, now I’m starting to understand why he didn’t.” 

He nodded then, unsure of what else to say as he kissed his way up from one of her knees to her thigh.  If this was the first person she’d been with since, well – everything – he’d sure as hell try and make it as nice for her as he could.  Her hands clutched a little to hard to his shoulders as he pushed her legs further apart, just enough for him and his shoulders to fit.  He kissed her on her scar for good measure, and then his lips tentatively skimmed over her lower ones.  He kept glancing up at her, searching for any prompt that this was too much too soon, but all he saw was her eyes close and her head fall back. 

He started slowly, gently parting her with his fingers and giving her a few short kisses – still glancing up at her every now and then.  It was when he gave a few slow laps of his tongue up and down the length of her, stopping each time to show some attention to her clit.  Her hands kneaded at his shoulders, and she was near sobbing when she whispered ‘ _more’_.

And he complied, he couldn’t say no to this writhing women above him – not ever.  He slowly worked one finger inside her, then two when she was ready.  He’d be damned if he didn’t make her cum hard before he took anything from her.  He pleasured her as much as he could, remembering what he’d done with Lucy to make her quake, like he’d done with the others that had come after her – at least the ones that had had cunts anyways.  _Fuck – he really needed to curb the swearing in his head too._

Charlie wailed, long and low, as he felt her pulse against his fingers – pulling him away from the thought – her whole body shaking as she hit her high.  His lips surrounded the hard bud and sucked, prolonging what he could for her.  

She was panting when she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze as he slowly stood up.  “C’mere.  Hop down and turn around.” Her legs were still wobbly as they touched the ground and he held her steady as she turned, fingers kneading at the supple give of her hips. “You ready, Charlotte?”

She nodded, “Mmhmm.” 

He could see her still as he knew she could hear the jangle of his belt as he fumbled with the clasp.  And then the zipper of his pants was down, and fuck, his cock was aching as it hit the air, a few pumps of his hand and fuck– “I don’t have a condom.” 

A laugh was the first thing to come form her as she still drifted slowly back to him off that cloud of hers.  “I didn’t even think those were still around.”

“They are.  I just don’t have one. Wasn’t quite expecting to get laid today.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes far gone from that green he knew, now dark with want – _for him_.  “Fuck me, Mac.  Just pull out when –”

And then he was slowly moving against her, coating himself in her.  Her fingers gripped the edge of the dresser as he slowly pushed himself inside.  He wasn’t sure which one of them was louder as he worked himself in slowly, taking time for them both to adjust to this.  

When he started to move, he pressed his chest to her back, one arm wrapped around her waist as the other busied itself with her breast.  She moaned louder the faster and harder he went.  And _goddamn_ , but it felt good to be inside her.  She squeezed him a few times experimentally and he wasn’t sure if he’d last if she kept doing that. He kissed a line up her spine, trying to distract her from doing that – and finally succeeded when his lips wrapped around the crook of her shoulder, giving her another thing of his to wear.

She whimpered when one of her hands let go of the edge of the dresser, grabbing his hand that was still at breast and tugging it between her legs.  He took the hint, knowing she was close again as he swirled his fingers around her clit, enjoying that she kept her hand there too directing him. 

“Bobbie, I lo –“

He pulled her face towards him with his other hand at her chin, swallowing her words as she clenched and shook around him as a second wave hit her.  _Not yet, not now._ Her thighs quivered against his and his hands moved to take hold of each of her hands as he drove himself into her throughout her climax, as it took all his strength not to just let himself go inside her. 

When he felt himself at the edge only seconds after, he withdrew from her, hissing at the temperature change.  He was surprised when she turned, one had supporting herself against the dresser with the other folding over his as he hurriedly pumped himself.  He moaned when a few of her fingers threaded through his and he felt the old familiar tightening in his gut.  When he came, he let his head fall to her shoulder, feeling the hot swell of himself strike at their stomachs.  He could barely breath as her fingers let go, slowly lifting his chin to languidly kiss her again. When she finally pulled away from his lips, her thumb came up and swiped across them - coming away pink from the lipstick she'd marked him with.

He pulled away only when he could think and move again, grabbing the cloth from the wash basin on the bedside table, wordlessly cleaning them both. He carried her over to the couch when he was done with the cloth, thankful for the muscles that had been growing in his arms from carrying their supplies – _maybe her junk collecting habit wasn’t so bad after all. There certainly were perks._

He laid down first, his head against the arm and her jacket as he tucked her under his chin, her body half sprawled over his. Before he settled, he snatched his duster from the floor to drape over her, and his hat back from her head.

“Thank you.”  Her words were barely murmured against his neck and as he leaned his head back, trying to get as comfortable as he could, his hat slid down over his eyes.  Well, he’d be asleep soon enough, he wouldn’t move it for now.

He ran his hands down her back, soothing them both as their breathing slowed. “C’mon Charlie, I’d do anything for you.”  And he tried to fight the way his heart thrummed as she nuzzled in closer.

“You think… you think we could do this again?  You and me?” He didn’t know if she could see his smile at the words.  It might not be the time to opening say what he knew they were both feeling – both too scared and raw from the last time love had burnt them – but this was good enough for now.

“Yeah, Charlie, we can.”

He thought she’d drifted off when she didn’t say anything else, but then he thought he felt her stir, felt her palms rest just over his heart as the settled there. “Bobbie?”  He gave a low noise in response. “What I’d been about to say – I think I meant it.  I think I – I think I love you.”

His finger pushed the brim of his cap up, finding her looking up at him from his chest, chin resting on her hands.  And fuck, even with her mussed up hair, lipstick smears, bruises from his fingers and lips – with all their combined baggage from their lives before each other – he knew he did too.


End file.
